After so long a poem... is it a poem? Yes because I say so

Flip flop, summer has come,
my sandals have yet to see the beach,
have they ever seen the beach,

the ground is wet,
I smelled
yesterday, like wet ground
wet fertilized ground.

(I walk into this and was quite upset.) 

I sat in the room,
with a window ceiling,
and waited for group,
perhaps my last

as a college student,
I might be swimming instead,
but
not at the beach,
not at the dunes I fearlessly climbed,
I climbed steep ground the other day,
scared my sandals would fail me. and
I would slip, rolling
down,
hitting bush and tree

my legs are weak
from too much sleeping
from too much seating

a yellow container of water,
ice melted,

the bathroom was hot the other day,
after scrubbing the tub I turned on a hot shower,
to wash the cleaner away,

the door was closed as I mopped,
pushing against the ground,
wondering if this mop did anything at all

I have never been a good mopper,
when I was a kid I used a rag and a bucket,
on my hands and knees,
mopping is a skill that is just beyond me,

I can vacuum, cook (Macaroni and Cheese), wash dishes,
when I clean I work endlessly. Focusing on every detail.
then my weak hands (from sleeping) start to complain,
like holding a pencil in elementary,

Rolling down the dunes,
a vast desert of ups and downs,
finding resting spots away from light,
running down to the water,

when I was baked in the sun,
after being lost in the dunes for hours,
I soaked in the bathtub,
anything to help the pain.
I’ve never been so red,
and will never be again.

I was better at moving and yard work when I was younger,
I did not have this air of delicacy,
pulling down vines and cutting down branches,
I climbed into the trashcan to push it all down,
one of those vines was poison ivy.

My Mom had never seen poison ivy that bad,
I lay awake at night just wishing that I were normal,
when I returned to school I proudly told my friend all the gross details,
which for the sake of my stomach I will not reminisce,

the horrible smell of vegetables are polluting my nose,
the party kind, stale and… well, polluted with chemicals,

Journeys not going so well

I went on the journey of getting to an interview. I looked up the bus routes (as my car was out of batteries), and looked at the streets on google map so I could get from where I thought the bus would stop to the interview. I miss my stop and I figured that I had given myself enough time so I continued my journey until I gave up. As for the number that was used to call me. It just rings and rings. Ahhhh.

It is fine, I guess. I need to start looking for jobs that will look good on a resume. Oh, and the swim class will not count as an academic, but I don’t need to take it because apparently I only need 3 credits. I could take the money I would have spent on swimming and do Yoga classes! (It turns out I do need 5 credits... there was a mix up where the adviser said I needed 3, but he meant 3 more then 2. I figured out this possibility and called him.)

I feel empowered and alive. I can shape my life right now. I can find where I want to live. I can… focus where I put my job searching efforts. Something tells me a job will come soon.

Oh, I caught myself up on Naturo… again. Not the comics, but the shows. Lets see… I am having my liver checked out for anything weird. My Bro is coming to pick me up. In order to focus all my classes on two days of the week instead of four I changed Native American Lit to Women’s Lit. Now while there are a broad number of hours that the classes are laid out, it is at least just all in one day.

My shoe smells. I was walking over some grass, and I was walking around a puddle, but my sandal hit wet ground and sunk in. Now my lovely sandal smells like grass fertilizer. It is a good thing I concluded that I would need to wear un-formal shoes with my outfit (because I would be walking a bit). I went into Barnes and Nobles and rinsed my shoes off. I told my story to the Muslim woman beside me. It is not often I get a chance (the courage) to talk to strangers.

I should make a fool of myself more, so I can enjoy that moment where the stranger’s face changes from, “Why are you talking to me.” to “This is actually amusing.”

I just finished seating here for a few minutes with my mind wandering from topic to topic wondering what to write next. The flow of thoughts that usually comes from the simple act of pushing down keys in a pattern has not come.

So I seat here with a tiredness hanging over me… a skirt on my legs and a shirt on my torso, the air conditioning sending goose bumps all over my freshly shaved legs. My swimsuit seats at home (my apartment) with a hot air balloon covered towel, and a brown pair of flip-flops.

I smell I am sure, even if the lady at the counter said otherwise. I feel like partying. The sky is so beautiful. A crow or raven just flew by as I looked up at the massive skylight.

Adios

La la la la

It appears that I have something in my brain that moves without command. Today for example I found myself making the sign of the cross without even thinking of God. Sure it was in a state of nervousness over classes starting up again, but it is not something I am the habit of doing. Yesterday I drove into a shopping center I had convinced myself not to go into. Some people develop involuntary movement on the medications I am on. Is it possible to develop involuntary actions (not the kind known as heart beat)?

There was this feeling the other day. My brain felt tight in a certain area like to parts where pushing together, and then there was a snapping feeling between the parts as if they had broken apart. As soon as it snapped the pressure was gone. I need to go clean up stuff. Ba Bye.

Dreams

Fighting with the feeling that things are boring, that this movie is boring when I am sure I would have loved it in another state. Here I am. This morning… yes it is not afternoon yet. I began contemplating my dreams and how the medication has changed them. Very soon after starting my medication path I begin to dream about people and books and movies that are in my life. I was happy to have dreams I could understand.

When I was a child no matter how much I wanted it I would not dream about say a book like the Lord of the Rings, or later Inu Yasha. In the end I had one dream for each of them. Now that I am on medications for a while I had so many dreams about Sasuke (anime) that I begin to wonder what he meant to me. Now I kind of miss the old dreams.

My old dreams felt deeper. I fell into another world. While now I just barely touch the surface as if I am looking at a reflection of the world of dreams. In a book I read by Robert Jordan (actually quite a few books) sometimes people dreaming could enter into another realm like place. Perhaps it has been so long since I dreamed deeply that it is slowly wearing me out.

It is not just I. People on the medications I am now (at higher doses) complain of dull dreams, plus a dull feeling brain. As for the dull brain, activity takes my focus off of it. So my feeling of boredom is gone. While I do not write as much now in the summer, I have to admit that writing helps me. I guess it is my way of playing chess. Chess is not active enough for my brain even if it is very active for some people.

Writing holds potential for me. I can write the world I can no longer touch. If I could only know how.

Writing is like a knife to fight the boredom, just like entering free sweepstakes gets me doing something during the horrible uneasy feeling. I am training my mind, and every action gets me further from crawling up into a ball in my lazy boy chair.

Many days all in one

Lets just pretend that I woke up at a respectable hour today. After I woke up I took a wonderful shower all the while thinking about anime. It is not always fun to be me. You know, sleeping as much as I do and all.

Yesterday I went to the mall with my brother and we saw the movie 21 in the cheap flicks. Yesterday I was up early to go see my therapist and had caffeine…

**

Another day has passed. It is a cold day. I feel dazed.

**

Another day has passed. My computer hasn’t warmed up yet. There I have finished the last of my grapes. I must… no I cannot. I am festering the longer I go without a job the deeper I sink into this hole. I must…. I didn’t. Okay. Ok. I did it. I fixed up my cover letter and resume and sent it out into the world… again. It is just I get this feeling in my head that I cannot do anything, but the action of applying to the Cat Clinic (which is looking for people) shifted through that feeling a bit.

Sasuke is evil. Just taught I would throw that out there. Ummm. I just got back from going somewhere with one of my sisters… no not that one… or that one. Yes, yes that one. It is about time for facebook!

There Facebook time is over. I have made the decision that I will take Summer Classes (unless a wonderful job falls out of the sky). Less then a week is left between now and classes. I am going to be done soon! Dance Dance Dance. Do Do Do, Do Do Do. Oh, grasshoppers where is the party? My sister is in town. (She was supposed to be here hours ago…) Is it too late to go to coffee shops?

It is not like my time waiting for her was wasted. No, not at all. I moved around the classes I would be taking over the summer. After some review I concluded that I only needed 5 credits to graduate. Yay! However, I still need a job… do do do (the other Do Do Do was light hearted and sounded different).

Oh, yes… I am sure you are getting sick of this, but another day has gone by. I know you are wondering why I don’t just post each day even if it is short (because I appear to be writing it)… I don’t know.

My weight has gotten a little extreme for my small frame. Some people are built in different ways and can handle weight gracefully. Sadly I am not one of those people.

Anyway, I just had a call from a possible job (not the cat clinic) so I will be interviewing on Monday. *Scratches lower eyelid. I really want to work at the cat clinic, but I cannot wait for it.

As I picked out what to wear today I ran across the “I <3 my Body T-shirt, and then in my head I started chanting I love my body, I love my body… yet in reality I do not love my weight. I see the potential in my body.

As I seat here devouring my third big bag of grapes in a week. Before the grapes there were the raspberries and the blueberries and the strawberries. When I went to see my Dr. (not pDoc) I was told to eat more fruit, so here I am consuming happily. I love fruit. Right now Grapes are on sale a lot. They can be so expensive the rest of the year so I am swimming in them. In fact the only one of them that is reasonable the rest of the year are strawberries.

I had a sudden memory of preparing strawberry shortcake (taking out stems and cutting the strawberries up) while watching Camelot in my room on my T.V. This was the T.V. my parents gave me on the Christmas I spent alone. That Christmas I tried watching “Life is Beautiful,” but couldn’t finish much of it, and in the end a cousin of mine (who often called) called and I was glad to talk to someone. Apparently she was alone as well.

What would I say about today if I were looking back at it? I would talk about how I disappeared behind the computer while my sister talked with my sister, and I enjoyed the taste of black grapes. I would talk about my computer, and how it was a requirement of the school I attended and about how happy I was to use it when I first opened it up.

I remember saying in an email to my sister: “When I am drinking espresso I am playing a role like those I have seen on Will and Grace. The role of a hip city…person.” Okay, I am not sure exactly how I put it. It was certainly more eloquent. However, I am not longer playing a role when I drink coffee. I find it hilarious that I equated hip espresso drinking to Will and Grace.

arrivederci (goodbye) and don’t ask me why I used Italian

Noon Winks Café.

Red leather chairs, orang’ish floors and walls with a hint of red and purple all muted.  A little energy from Ow-la-la espresso at a coffee shop on Plymouth out by the Humane Society. Sadly I dressed up so I couldn’t go walk dogs. What was I thinking? Oh and my hair, who cares it is not that messed up. I will not get out here any time soon (dressed up) so I will ask if they have any job… what am I thinking… deep breath. I need not be intimidated by the seriousness of a job there. I need to get a serious job.

Do I really want to go ask for a job at the Humane Society? I am sure I would need up cleaning… not that this matters. I would have to watch countless dogs and cats that I love come and go. I would have to stand by the killing. No, this is not a job for the mentally ill. Yet I need a job… I need a job.

It would be a job of hardship and joy unlike many boring jobs out there. I will go now. Well, there is no cup holder in my car… so I will go after my drink is done.

You see it is about time I start to expand my search for jobs, and I had thought about the Humane Society from the beginning and will continue to unless I walk in there today and ask.

What do you think the cost of gas is between my apartment and the Humane Society? I am not thinking of this because of a job alone, but because I need to exercise and why not walk dogs while doing it. Lets see. I have to face this question. Lets ‘mapquest’ the two places and see the distance between. Five miles driving. Ahhh now I need the gas mileage and I cannot find it!

I give up for now… I know I’ve seen charts with average gas mileage for different cars and different years many times. Oh well. Sigh.

At least I know now that I take the best route to the Humane Society. Chug, Chug, Chug. I cannot have alcohol, but I can have caffeine. Thank God for caffeine. There are moments in my life when I stop to think… only God could have made this. Coffee is one of those things.

***

My head is in a weird state right now. Perhaps it was from the heat in the car. I opened the windows after a while, but was so focused on the road that I forgot it at first. I am trying to draw a map in my head. Really I spent the last ‘who knows how many' minutes’ staring at Google maps. I matched the map in front of me with the map in my head.

Now the only thing to see is if it will take me somewhere… what… watch I will do more map studying. You know for that day when we all have hybrid (or whatever cars) and can therefore travel cheaply like people did in the past. I need to know my way around! Ahhh! Detroit (and the area around it) is just too much. So many roads! So confusing. Sigh.

The sun continues to shine

The most important news (so it gets to be at top) is that I am feeling wonderfully better. Sure I can still sleep a looong time, but when I am awake my brain doesn’t feel like it is sleeping…. well it does a little bit now, but it is morning, and I haven’t had any caffeine at all. No running, or swimming, or laughter, to weak me up.

I am going to see a new therapist (finally). I figured after so long I should dress up a little. Thankfully that last therapist wasn’t mine, she was so young. She looked like she was still in college. I think it would be hard to be a young therapist.

Ahh, my paranoid nature has finally gotten to me. I feel as if the woman next to me is reading what I write. Schizoaffective Bipolar is stupid like that. Anyway.

I looked up an old friend, but I do not know her email address, and I would feel weird calling her… “Oh hi! It’s me! Did you know I’m Bipolar?” I have Bipolar disorder I should say.

Every now and then when biting into a blueberry I can taste the earth. That taste I experienced as a child when I ate some grass to see what it tasted like. At other times I ate clovers. I was never very good at finding four leaf clovers. I would stare at a big pile of clover searching in vein. I am not sure if I ever did find one.

Today in mass it was the time of year where the Church asks out for people who are called by God to become Priests and Nuns and other such stuff. I looked up at the Priest and rolled around in my head the idea that I could never become what he was. Why, because I was female. I grow up looking up to my parish Priests who seemed like Saints in my young eyes.

Then I thought, “The Church believes that sex (not gender sex) for any other reason then for having a baby is a sin. I do not plan on having a baby. The costs are too high, so if I where to stick with my faith there would be no reason for me to ever get married. It would be cruel and impossible… if I were to stick with what I was taught.”

lol… sigh.

So here I am. It is the next day. My black bulky bookbag rests at the side of my chair; a sliver (yes the silver kind) laptop is placed on two legs covered in a rose printed skirt. A classy rose printed skirt that I liked so much when I was younger that I bought it and figured I could pen it even if it was many sizes too big. Now it fits perfectly.

Medication and depression can take there told one ones health. Causing me not only to gain weight, but also to fall into a triangle. The level of medication I am on causes me liver problems and was therefore Zoloft was decreased. Yet Zyprexa causes high blood sugar and bad cholesterol. Any medications for cholesterol are hard on the liver. So exercise is the only answer, but as much as I would like to just spend time walking in the park I cannot bring myself to do it until I get a job.

What kind of dance is this? I have heard of the Dance of Anger (book), but this is the Dance of Body and Bipolar I guess. What is more important my happiness or my heart? I know I need to get exercising because before the summer I would walk into class every weekday, and now… now I do nothing of the sort.

I’m reading… listening to the book, “The Mermaid Chair,” so if you don’t want an obvious spoiler skip this paragraph. Hearing about a married woman and a monk (who thankfully hasn’t taken his vow of celibacy yet) made me cringe in a way that reading it never would have.

In the book I am at a stand point where I do not want to go on, not because it is poorly written, or a bad story, but because… I am not sure why. So I am giving it a short rest.